#only getting a particular outcome if it's needed for what i'm writing

[serenpedac]

It sometimes bothers me that the only moment to let Tina or Verda know about the supernatural is in Book 2. For Yael, especially, this feels like the wrong time. Everything is still so new for her and her main experience with this new world was Murphy, which was very traumatic. For some, it might be the perfect moment to reach out to someone they trust, but Yael tends to draw inward at such times. To her, it seems better not to let either of them know, because she has experienced herself how dangerous it can be. Why pull them into that? (Why bother them with what she's been through? Because letting them know would also mean opening up about Murphy, which.. she's not yet ready for)

If it would be an option to tell them later, she'd be far more likely to do that, because she feels more comfortable with it, and also because she doesn't want to have to keep something like this from either of them.

I'd be interested in hearing other people's reasoning for what their detective does, if anyone feels like sharing? ^^

[th3-c0ll3ct3r]

Mildly warm take, Tommy does NOT owe his entire career to Dream

Because, YES the dream smp help propel his career as a content creator, but it does not constitute to everything you've done to make himself and his brand better

Did dream write all the jokes? The vlogs? The books? The MCC wins? The friendship formed before and after? The smp's to follow later? Origins? The comedy? Twitch con?

Because if you say That Dream did all of that for Tommy then I'm going to assume Dream Is Crawling into his skin and piloting his body

Saying dream owns Tommy's as well as other people's careers, is like saying that if I were to bake a cake it wouldn't be my cake it would be the person who made the ingredients. I still baked the cake, put the ingredients together, bought them, got the recipe and just because I didn't grow the wheat or milk the cow it doesn't make it not my cake.

The smp did objectively help his career there is no fault in that and even Tommy acknowledges it, but you can't attribute every single thing that he does now to Dream.

And you can also argue that dream was a bad person, because he was. Regardless of allegations and other people's experiences, dream intentionally seeked out a 14 year old streamer, made him sign a legal contract, took every single bit of credit, got into fights with him on a regular basis, a made him feel so bad you will slamming his head against the desk.

That's not normal. None of that's normal.

And then in an alternative perspective dream didn't do us much for the smp as he claims. The only things he did was bring the content creators together, start the server, and play as his own character.

I do not get me wrong there is credit in that and he did do those things that allow the server to operate, but those with the only things he did.

Wilbur (as much as we hate him) wrote the scripts, and alot of Tommy lore. Will stopped writing the Script after he died canonically, and then later came back because in his own words " lI had to write myself back into the narrative [...] I didn't like where it was going. Not to see dream is a bad writer, but we had different ideas". That's him putting it nicely, the worst bit for the smp realistically was when dream was writing the lore.

And I'm not saying that it was bad but what I am saying is that the majority of people found it bad, so bad in fact that they had to bring Will back.

Dream did not write his own story.

And to the other content creators, on the server they will their own lore. And they acted it out themselves, dream was no part of that yet they still had to sign contracts because it was still on the physical server.

Ranboo and Technoblade in particular had some of the best story writing and telling, and they did it all themselves.

But there's only one thing in common, that makes sense but I think we all missed, dream was in every single person story or had planned to be. And I get it it's his server but on the other hand they could have had amazing stories without his input. Ranboo could have replaced Dream with a mysterious unknown character in his lore, and the outcome and affect would have been the same story-wise. Dream didn't need to be Puffy's son, but he was. Technoblade and Philza could have skip to the side plot of saving dream and instead it needed to return a favour to someone else.

The storytelling within the server is a amazing but if you subtract dream and put someone in his place it's still would have been the same story. It's like he was made to be sandwich in everyone's story. And yes he was a great character in most stories, but in others he was unnecessary.

Put with the overall fact that he had to be in every single story obviously ties back to the server being his, but it's also a reflection of his own ego. He probably still to this day believe that every single person has a career because of him and do not because of who they are now. He definitely helped but it's not all him.

And I would say George, Sapnap and Dream, have the same issue with ego. You see the way dream behaves with over people, he dominated people's careers for many years and had it done by fear.

Sapnap, he would swear and curse every single person, to the point where Scott said he was the most difficult person to put on a team because no one wanted to play with him (I have a different post about MCC). There were many offensive and situations in which the pair of them actually ruin the game for a lot of people. If you were not a person who watched MCC back in the day then I can tell you from now they had to change so many rules, Scott had to start making applications because of the amount of times that they would bail or not communicate with him or simply people didn't want to play with him and wanted to avoid him, and due to their obsessive behaviour in needing to the practice the maps so much that when the game was chosen some people didn't even try because they knew who would win.

They're talented don't get me wrong but there is an extent in which that their Talent crosses with ego and makes the whole game unplayable. This is without mentioning the amount of people who were scared to play with this team or against this team. No one had a fun.

And even in the smp, some people purposely avoided Sapnap, because he didn't know how to manage himself.

And George you could argue also has a large ego because of the people he surrounds himself by and he's a success. He is an objectively/ conventionally attractive male, and there have been many instances including in recent times and in certain develop it situations that he used it to his advantage. He doesn't behave his age and he treats people cruelly.

And most importantly, the fans. Yes YOU. You heavily contributed to the success of the server and to the success of the creators. But the level of obsession people would have regarding these content creators is something that will always baffle me.

And alot of people asked them to speak out, especially Dream. And he didn't. Dream actually encouraged his audience by selling sketchy merchandise and a USB stick with his baby pictures on it. He enables his radical audience because they are what keeps him going. Realistically without the radical side of his audience he would not be as successful and financially well off as he is now.

Additionally those people attack literally anyone that set something bad about him, and at first he tried to downplay it, then he assured people he would manage it and tell them to start, but then along the way he must have realized that these people a Ride or Die for him and that if he drives away these people he drives away a lot of money, free advertisement and a defense system against his brand- and I say this because these people would defend him in any circumstance

So then he doesn't stop them, and now you've got a 19-20s yr old with an unfortunate amount of mental health issues, some people who continue to jab him with needles anytime he's upset.

And it's sad. Is far beyond something that his parents can protect him from, yet he hasn't found the resources to protect himself. He's not happy with himself. He used to be scared to stand with someone successful even though he's successful.

And I'm genuinely proud of how much Tommy has grown. He is and continues to be a dedicated, passionate and nice person regardless of circumstances, he continues to be real with his audience and tries not to waste thier time. And none of that was taught to him by Dream. He taught himself how to be himself. If I see one person saying that he's a clout chaser I'm gonna have to tell you that you're wrong because he's done so much for himself to the point where you can't even count it yet you can count the things dream did for him on a Post-it note.

Tommy did well

[jennamoran]

The Far Roofs

So today I want to talk a bit about what this game wants to be. In particular, I'm going to go over its key technical and artistic goals.

The Far Roofs focuses on immersive hidden world fantasy adventure. It's intended to offer the experience of a grounded, emotionally real base world attached to an idealized, fantastic "hidden world" setting.

One might say, the streets and buildings and houses of the game's world are basically our own. Above us, though, is a stranger, more idealized, and more fantastic place. It's hard to get to. It's dangerous. It's less grounded. It's full of wonder.

Those are the Far Roofs.

This divide exists to make the game feel as real as possible, if you want to go that way. That's part of what hidden world fantasy is about, after all---the idea that magic is here. That it's not in some distant alien land or mythic future or past.

It's here, if you want to reach for it.

(Now, the game is flexible enough that you can play "protagonist" types instead of realer people, and many traditional gaming groups will probably prefer that, but that'll mean getting less of that immersive effect.)

The mood the game is interested in is that feeling you get when you take a huge risk---move to a new place; try a new thing. The feeling you get in those times in your life when everything is alienated and wondrous and terrifying but there's also so much more *hope* than there was in the still times before.

It's a mood of being swept up and called forward.

This is, among other things, meant to be a game for people who've been beaten down or exhausted by the ... everything ... to feel that sensation of moving forward again.

To remember what it's like, why it's worth it, how to reach for it again.

It's meant---and I do understand that I am finite and flawed and this can only go so far---as a tonic and refreshment to the soul.

--

Rules

The Far Roofs uses a 5d6-based dice pool system for day-to-day task resolution. It's relatively traditional and optimized for fast, fun dice reading. There's a loose consensus I've seen in RPG design circles that dice are for when outcomes are uncertain and both options are interesting, and I don't disagree ... but there's also this thing where rolling dice to decide is intrinsically interesting and fun, where it's fuel for a certain part of the brain.

This game tries to get as much out of that side of dice as it can.

You'll also collect letter tiles and cards over the course of the game. This is for bigger-picture stuff:

To answer big questions and to complete big projects, you'll either assemble representative words out of those tiles, or, play a poker hand built out of those cards. Word and their nuances express ideas and shape how outcomes play out; poker hands, conversely, just give a qualitative measure of how much work you do or how well things will go.

In keeping with this, the campaign is represented principally in the form of questions or issues your words and hands can address. Player/GM-created campaigns would be the same.

--

Physical and Electronic Product

I wanted to put the print version within the range of as many people who might need that tonic as possible. That means that for this particular game, I wanted to cover the full territory that I'd normally cover in a two or three volume set (core rules, setting, and campaign) in a single 200-250-page volume.

In practice this means there's a guide and examples for constructing the setting, rather than a deep dive into a fully-detailed world; that there's a bit less in the way of whimsical digression and flourish than in the writing I'm known for; that there's minimal "flavor" text on abilities; and that the campaign presentation is pretty fast-paced.

Conversely, it means that the game should be easy to absorb and to share with other possible players, and, that the game and campaign in this one relatively small volume should provide enough content for five or six years of play.

The book will be 8.5"x11" with grayscale art, available in a limited hardcover print run and a print-on-demand softcover form.

--

On the Rats

You'll see a lot of talk from me and others about the talking rats in this game. They're one of the jewels of the experience, and I think they're probably a significant draw just for being talking rats that are core to the game.

... but I'm going to hold off for now, because, to be clear, this is not a game of playing talking rats. It's just a game where talking rats and probably one of the top three most important setting elements.

I couldn't get that feeling I wanted of ... the base world being grounded realism; of the hidden world pulling you up and out and into a world full of magic ... with your playing rats, with your playing something so distant from the typical player.

So this is not a game of playing them.

They're just ... I like rats, and so I made the rats in this game with love. They're great ... whatever the equivalent is to "psychopomps" is for a magical world instead of for death ... and a way of talking about how in the face of the world, we're all pretty small.

--

I'm really excited about this game; the playtest was lovely.

I hope you'll enjoy it as well!

[swordandscytheandpen]

Finished Guide. I have thoughts.

Mostly positive ones. I have nitpicks, sure, but it's damn near impossible to write a fully satisfying resolution to a three million word story. EE did an insanely good job considering.

Akua was one of the highlights, of course. Her arc was indeed probably the single best redemption story I've ever seen. The pivot in Praes, in particular, was amazingly compelling ("why was she not hearing the song?" hit me HARD). @kvothbloodless once responded to my tags while I was in the middle of Book 2, assuaging my skepticism that a character as remarkably hateable as Akua could have a well-executed redemption arc, and I gotta say her confidence was well-placed. It's a testament to EE's character writing skills that a character who is not only morally monstrous but immensely personally unlikeable could be turned around like this. I'll make fun of Guide's length, of course, but I don't think an arc like this could be handled so well in a work of reasonable length. It's a strength both of the writer and the medium, I suppose.

Her final fate, like most of the cast's, was a pretty solid conclusion to her character arc as well. Really followed through on the narrative's refusal to entertain redemption through death, while still being a surprise, unlike the whole Dead-King's-jailor thing. The dynamics of that particular fate on her character had already been explored through her and Cat's thoughts several times, so it's nice to see something different, instead of just watching the original plan play out with rings instead of a crown.

Same goes for a lot of the other characters. Viv and Indrani had excellent conclusions. Masego and Hakram I'm not dissatisfied with, though I do have minor points of umbrage. Hakram's arc might just have gone past me a little bit; I feel that if he has to be tied so tightly to the Clans as a whole he really needed more foreshadowing connecting him to his home. Instead, it felt a little bit like a family-conquers-all story shoved in with only justification in the moment, which ain't really my cup of tea. More specifically, it felt like the narrative required him to have deeply-held goals that he could go be independent about, but forgot to actually touch on those goals until he'd already left Catherine. Still, just a mild disappointment.

Then we've got Masego, and my take on him is similar in that it's broadly satisfying but I just feel like it doesn't fit in certain ways. In his case, it's mostly the apotheosis: the edges of that particular puzzle piece seem rough, as if EE had something else in mind but swapped it out relatively late in the process. There was some hinting that his dream of godhead would result in conflict with Cat, and then they just... didn't do that. Then in the epilogues, it really seems like his apotheosis hadn't made much impact on who he is or what he does. His part of the epilogue would have been just as suitable, to my eyes, if he hadn't achieved that. So it fell flat a little bit, which took some of the wind out of his ending. Everything else about him was great though.

Catherine's ending took the longest for me to think through. At first I was a bit ambivalent about it, 'cause it felt like nothing was really subverted. Minus a few hiccups, she got everything she wanted. Cardinal. The Liesse Accords. Even all the Woe surviving. The only thing she didn't get was Akua, and she already knew that wasn't on the table. I really just did not expect a straightforward Catherine Wins ending to the Guide. I thought she'd probably die at least; in fact, I thought the most likely outcome was Cat's death and her goals being posthumously realized! This story sure felt like a tragic ending was coming down the pipes!

And then once again, I remembered that this is a story about stories. What Cat has isn't just a happy ending, it's one last victory over the narrative. It's a middle finger to the idea that villains don't get to sail off into the sunset. And you know, it really takes some strength to put a fresh coat of paint on the very idea of a happy ending. So yeah, Cat's ending is great. Just perfect.

But of course, there's no way to wrap up three million words while satisfying every single plot point. So, keeping in mind that APGTE is probably among my top 5 written works in the English language now, I do have a point or two of order.

First off, towards the end, Named were dying like flies. Felt like every chapter had a list of casualties all its own. And I can see the drive to do that; there were a lot of Named involved by that point and there had to be casualties. It keeps the stakes high and the villains scary. But I can't help but feel discouraged from reading once six characters I'm somewhat engaged with die in the span of two chapters. Mostly offscreen.

The biggest offender here was the Painted Knife's band. I really loved the bonus chapter about their backstories, as well as the concept of them as the first band containing both heroes and villains, and I'd wish we'd seen nore of how that relationship developed. And I thought it was a weighty enough label that they'd shot up again later. So when it was mentioned offhand that the Royal Conjurer was killed, I was blindsided a little bit. And then the rest died, one by one, offscreen (except the Knife). Poor Poisoner. She was my favorite. Felt like wasted potential, like a story that wasn't followed through to the end. The Blade of Mercy was in a similar boat. He was important in the Arsenal arc! Let him die onscreen at least!

There was Roland too, who wasn't as bad. His death wasn't really satisfying, another surprise Hawk casualty, but at least it was shown and meaningful. Still, I feel like he deserved a proper character arc outside his backstory. Poor guy.

A couple other deaths, too: Rafaella and Alexis in the fight against the Dead King. Rafaella was ambiguous enough that I really wasn't sure whether she was dead for a while, and even after... I dunno. The hero who killed Captain needed a stronger resolution than "sacrificed herself to get rid of the Dead King's last line of revenants." Then Alexis's death just wasn't meaningful; it wasn't for anything. And I know, I know, that's not how death works, but it is in stories! Didn't feel right. It was too fast.

But the Keter deaths were really my biggest gripe, and if that's the biggest problem I have with a conclusion to a story that long? I can only offer applause.

You know what death I didn't have a problem with? Hanno, in the epilogue. How the hell do you kill a character that major in just a few sentences and make it feel satisfying? The epilogues were just all-around great. The character deaths and resolutions felt natural, plot points that were touched on in the main story were shown to ultimately be left to the next generation, and the continued history and development of the world made it feel so alive. It's a common sin for characters to create a new static world that's supposed to feel like it'll last forever. And sure, the framework of the Accords are kinda like that, but the rest of the world? There are still wars, still conflicts, still upheavals. (The Republic of Orense was a nice touch in that regard.) The epilogues are nearly flawless and I will stand by that.

Last thing - of course I gotta talk about Anaxares. When Yara dropped him into the Serenity, I was pretty hyped about it. But then... I dunno. It turned out a bit flat. Felt less like the culmination of Anaxares's character and more like a plot device to cross the Serenity out of the equation. At the end of the day, with Anaxares sitting in the Serenity through the final battle and then appearing in the epilogues just to pop up years in the future, cause problems, and run off again, he felt weirdly like a sequel hook? And forgive me, but I'd eat my hat if there's a sequel. I guess it's imagination bait, which is certainly preferable to a poorly-executed conclusion. He's still my favorite non-Cat character. If there's any decent fic about him, please give it.

Speaking of, that's all I've got. Looking back up, this was mostly petty complaints, but I wanna be clear: once the first few books were past and EE broke their worst writing habits, this became one of my favorite writing pieces ever. The length and the proliferation of typos and other errors mean that I'd hesitate to fullthroatedly recommend it to anyone, but it's one of those works that has permanently altered my brain. Good fucking book.

Okay, Pale Lights time. Hopefully I'll catch up before Book 3 comes to an end, but I'm not gonna rush. Rapidly chewing through ridiculously long works is not, I have learned, conducive to getting the most enjoyment out of them.

[gazsluckyhat]

Sarah's House *TW*

Five - Shiny Things

Masterlist

I'm so sorry it's took me this long. I had a horrible reaction to a antibiotic I was on due to complications from my surgery. But I'm feeling a lot better now so updates should be regular now.

This one also isn't as long as the others but I had something happen every time I sat down to write. Literally. But I hope you enjoy it. A tad bit of domestic fluff before we get into the good shit. Shit is also getting darker so just be prepared

Price knew he shouldn't take the mission. The outcome seemed obvious, or so he thought. Until he wasn't anymore.

or

Like calls to like. Or something of the sort.

Sarah's watching. Eyes flitting around the room, not really focusing on anything particular. Everyone is doing something, but her. Price and her father are doing legal paperwork for something she doesn't know, there's a nurse talking to Ghost and Gaz, with the latter making a list of stuff they needed to get for her. Everything feels surreal, almost dream like. The voices are still there, yelling at her, telling her things that make her chest ache. But she pushes it down, away from her front, because Soap, she liked it, is coming to sit beside her. All pretty blue eyes and light stubble. She gives him what she hopes it a reassuring smile. I'm totally okay and not thinking about jumping out that window. Not at all. It doesn't work though, she forgets they are one of the best SAS teams in Europe. They read lies for a living.

"We're gonna go to Price's place. It's out past town, beautiful backyard. Quiet, think ''ya will like it." His thumb is rubbing her hand and its nice. The touch. The feeling of his skin on hers. Feels good to not be afraid of it, of any of them. They've had plenty of time to do anything they wanted to her and never did. Ghost had seen her naked, held her body to him and not once looked at or touched her wrong in any way. She'd expected that, had prepared herself for it. But then they talked to her, actually spoke to her like a human rather than a animal. She'd wanted to cry, to honest to god cry. It had felt so nice. To be human. They'd given her that.

"Ay' where'd you go?" Johnny was still petting her hand, speaking to only her, concern in his voice. Sarah looked at him, really looked for the first time. He really was handsome. There was a scar on his chin, she left her fingers ghost over it. Had smile lines, which she had expected, he was always smiling or laughing. She ran her hands over his lips, then his eye brows. Using her free hand she tapped him a message. ... --- / .... .- -. -.. ... --- -- . So handsome  Soap blused, she found him cuter like that. Cheeks all red and eyes suddenly bashful.

"Don't lie lassie." But she was shaking her head. -.-- --- ..- / .- .-. . / -....- / -- .- -.- . / -- . / ..-. . . .-.. / .... ..- -- .- -. You are - Make me feel human His heart is stuttering, head begging his blood to quit rushing. Her sudden attention making the fluttery feeling he felt around her wild.

"You are. Deserve to be treated as such. Pretty bonnie thing like you? Deserve the world an' more." She's looking away, feeling suddenly lightheaded. "Get ya' home, away from this and let ya' heal. Show them that 'u're stronger than it." Sarah doesn't know why she does it, just that the urge is overpowering and it's either his mouth or his cheek but she needs the contact. And she kissing his cheek, burying her head in his neck while she squeezes him.

"T-t-th-a-nk y--u S -o-ap." It's breathy and takes her a few minutes to get out, but it is tattooed on his heart, her body conforming to fit in his arms, heartbeat steady for the first time in two years. And that's when Johnny realizes he's fucked.

 Two hours later she's once again in oversized clothes and sitting beside her dad while Price drives them to his place. Soap typing on his phone, eyes watching her every little bit. It's away from town. Away from the loud noises and wild smells. She thinks she likes it. But she's not sure. The place itself it gorgeous. Reminds her of a childhood trip to the mountains. The cabin they stayed in had been a little like this, but way smaller. It fit what she knew of Price. She could picture him on the balcony with a cup of coffee, or tea, and maybe even a paper.

"S'not much but it's home. And you're welcome to it." Sarah nods and smiles. She follows the boys up the stairs and into the main room, which she has to hold in her shock. It's beautiful. Decorated for comfort. The couch is cozy and plush and she knows she will be using it for naps. A large fireplace was agaisnt one wall with T.V on the one beside it. The size causing her to look at Price with one eyebrow up.

"Enjoy a good rugby match." He's rubbing the back of his neck and blushing, and Sarah giggles. Actually giggles. It's the sweetest sound they've ever heard in their lives. It's rough around the edges but warms their hearts. Because she's healing. The kitchen is next, just as beautiful as the rest.

"There's three rooms upstairs and two down here. I'm giving you the master Sarah" She’s shaking her head, trying to refuse. It’s not fair. She’s always a burden in her mind and she refuses to kick him out of his own space. She wasn’t raised like that. She’s pointing at him, yours. She's more than insisting it, she can't feel like this. This problem that everyone has to bow down to. No, she isn't that. She's Sarah. Sarah who got her teeth way to early. Sarah who knows all the words to any Stevie Nicks song. Sarah who hates blood now. Sarah who can't look in the mirror without gagging. Sarah who wants to peel her own skin off. Sarah who wants to di…

She's hyperventilating, Price kneeling below her, hands holding on to her red cheeks. His eyes are a cool blue she realizes. Different then Johnny's bright ones. Price's are pools. Calm pools she feels safe in. Home in. She takes her own hands and grabs his shoulders, squeezing to make sure he's real. Not the phantoms that've been haunting her since she woke.

"The room is bigger, has a attached bathroom, space for you to retreat when we become to  much. Do you understand? You're not puttin' me out, lovie. I'm a easy man, give me a chance and I'll sleep anywhere." He's giving her that smile that makes her knees feel funny. All she can do is nod as her heart rate slows and air stops feeling short.

"Do ya' wanna go see it?" She nodding and taking his hand, it smaller than his, comically small. He leads her up the stairs and to the left. Once he opens the door she freezes. It's beautiful. The bed is in the middle, most are right? She can't remember. The sheets and bed cover are dark blue and suddenly she feels exhausted. There's a door to the right of the entrance that leads to a just as beautiful bathroom with a soaking tub and a walk in shower that makes her want to puke. She doesn't step foot any there. On the opposite wall is a walk in closet that's not even half full of clothes, most of them are on the floor. They're all Price's and she can smell them from here, makes her chest all warm. There's a floor to ceiling window on the other side of the closet that she reveals when she moves the giant curtains. The view causing her jaw to drop. Her knees almost give out when she sees the mountains, the way the trees look around the yard. There's a shed and, is that a 4 wheeler? Price was right. This would be her kingdom. She tells him by throwing her body at him, catches him off guard. But she weighs like five pounds soaking wet so he steadies himself easily.

They spend the next couple hours talking and doing laundry. Well the boys do. Her dad went to sleep early, jet lag he said. Sarah trying to help fold but is swatted away, told to relax. Which is not happening because the voices are screaming at her, her skin is crawling and for the love of God she has to pee but there's a mirror in the bathroom and she refuses to see herself again. So she sits pretty, listens and pretends to not see the shadow in the corner. Price and Johnny are talking about some past mission when Ghost and Gaz finally walk through the door, both carrying more shopping bags then seems physically possible. She gapes, she knows she does. Because where did they go? She's only seen this in movies.

"Oi, you two. Wanna help, huh?" Ghost is setting them at her feet. Then bending down to press a clothed kiss to her head. "Got you a surprise Flower." Then he's out the door following the other two. Gaz setting his bags in the kitchen. She can hear him moving around and unloading things so she joins him. She's always been nosy.

"Hey pretty, come to join me?" She nods and walks to the bags on the counter, fingers pulling so she can peek in the bags. "Open them up, yeah? Point at anything you like." And so she does. The first bag is simple just some basic cooking stuff. Garlic, mint, thyme and a couple more herbs. The next one makes her smile. It's filled with chips and snacks. She points at a few she wants to try before handing them to Gaz who tells her his favorite. The next is fruit and she points at almost every single piece, which makes Gaz happy because maybe she'll eat a lot and gain some weight. She almost drops the next one, the sight startling her. It's meat, ground beef she thinks, but its bloody and reminds her of the prisoner in the cell beside hers. The one they took a meat cleaver to, his hea… And she’s gagging, running to the trash bin to dry heave and puke up stomach acid.

"Sarah!" There's a hand pulling her hair back, the other rubbing down her spine. She shakes that one off, not because she doesn't want him touching her (God does she want him touching her) but because the Russians had laughed at her when she'd puked. Pointed and laughed. Made her fucking eat it. Some of them would fuck her through it. Shove their fucking prick dicks in her mouth until she vomits again, moaning words she wished she didn't understand. When she's done she stand up and faces Gaz, shame covering her features.

"I'm sorry. I should've put it away before, didn't think." And he's hugging her and handing her a bottle of, apple juice? Fucking apple juice. And she cries. Because she fucking loves apple juice and hasn’t had it in two years. Fucking Russians only gave her stagnate fucking water. She's cursing too much. Her mom wouldn't be happy. "You want water instead, I'll…" She shaking her head. Smiling and pulling it to her chest hoping he gets it. "You're favorite?” She nods. "I'll buy more then." And he unpacks the rest of the stuff. Including the other thirty bags Johnny sets down when he comes back in, stealing a juice as well and leading her back to the living room. Where Price and Ghost have at least one hundred bags waiting. Okay, maybe not that many but still, it's a lot.

"Come sit down, want you to see these." She sits on the couch, just as soft as she thought, and gets comfy. Or what she hopes looks like comfy. Her skin is crawling still. She swears there has to be mites under there.

"We know you have no clothes or anythin' really so we got it for ya'." Ghost says shoving a box at her. She's wide eyed. They…bought her things? With their money? She's pushing the box back and trying to get up. Shaking her head no while trying not to cry. Her head is spinning. She doesn't deserve this.

"Ay' stop, sit down. It's okay." Johnny is pulling her to sit beside him, his thigh pressing into hers. "Breath lassie." His lips are right above her ear, pressing soft kisses there. Her fingers are moving before she understands. -.. --- -. - / -.. . ... . .-. ...- . Don't deserve Johnny wants to scream. "Of course you do." -. --- / .... .- ...- . / -. --- - .... .. -. --. / - --- / --- ..-. ..-. . .-. No nothing to offer How can he get her to understand that he would give her the heads of anyone she wanted if it meant she would be happy?

"You don't 'ave to offer anythin' for people to care." Johnny wants to shake her. But he knows she's had her worth beaten into her, literally.

"You can't go around naked. Open the gifts." Price isn't giving her a choice, plucking a bag up and setting it in her lap. She stares at it before shakily opening it. A shirt, multiple actually, in some of the prettiest colors she's seen. She can feel tears on her cheeks.  They’re soft. So damn soft. She doesn’t have proper time to process and get emotional because Ghost is handing her another bag. Which was the whole point. This one has sweats, basic colors that she could pair with anything.

“Didn’t know your jean size and I thought you seemed like a sweats kinda gal.” She giggling at Ghost and nodding. Because he’s one hundred percent correct. The next bags are more shirts and bottoms. The pajamas being the softest things she’s ever touched. Gaz picked out the pink fluffy slippers she instantly put on and fell in love with, the tennis shoes Ghost got fit like a dream. There's so much stuff, and it's all new and expensive. She may have been hidden in a basement for two years but she knows Nike is a top seller. There's only a couple bags left, Johnny easily organizing what is what and where it goes. God she's grateful for that. Her eyes catch a box, it's closed with the flaps tucked into each other. She cocks her head to the side and points.

"Gaz picked that out." It's clearly heavy, Ghost gives a grunt when he sets it down. He pulls the flaps open and, her hands grab the very first one on top. Twilight Her heart seems to have stopped. It's used, clearly, but she couldn't give a rats ass. It reminds her of her youth, the days spent wrapped in a blanket and devouring each book. Of her mom taking her to the theater to watch each one when it came out. The second book is next, then the third, fourth. It's the whole collection. She's looking up and catching his brown eyes.

"There's more, underneath them. Want help?" Please. She nods. And he's handing her some of her favorites. Books. One of her favorite things that she had accepted to never having, touching, or seeing ever again. She puts them down and throws her arms around him. Actually holding on. "Your dad said you enjoyed 'em. So I thought I'd try and find a few."  And she could combust with the emotions she's feeling. The fact someone actually cared enough to get her something. Matter of fact, the fact someone cared was enough to send her over the edge. She'd known nothing but hate and anger for so long she forgot what it felt like to be cared for. To be loved. Her nails are digging in, chest heaving and her whole body shakes. She buries her face deeper into Gaz's neck, wanting to capture this feeling forever.

"Than-k y-o-u." It's broken and rushed but nothing sounds sweeter to Gaz, the words setting a fire in his chest. He's gently pulling her back, wiping tears as she sniffles.

"You're welcome. If there's anymore you want, just ask." Pushing hair out of her face he turns her around, where Ghost is patiently waiting with bag in his hand. She eyes it, its not branded.

"Open it." And she does. It's a necklace, silver and thin. Expensive she's sure. The pendant takes her breath away. It's small, size of a dime. But it's a raven. Blood red gem for it's eye. Her call sign. "Sargent Raven, pretty badass callsign. Deserves to be shown off too." Her partner in crime had come up with it. Said she always had a eye for the enemy, like a raven to something shiny. Her heart ached. Her team, she'd thought about them constantly in the beginning. What had happened to them, if they were looking for her. She'd had the thoughts beat out of her in the end. Lifting it up she beckoned to put it on. Thick fingers brushed agasint bruised skin. The chain fit perfectly around her neck, the raven sitting comfortably at the start of her chest bone. Her fingers dance across the pendent, it's smooth and brings a sense of calm instantly to her mind. No one had called her Raven in so long, she'd missed it.

Johnny and Price had cleaned and re-organized his closet one she'd opened everything. Price taking his clothes to the bedroom down the hall. He didn't have many and so it made sense to move them anyway. Turns out Johnny had a knack for organization. Sarah sat on the bench and watched the men work. Johnny pointing and talking while Price listened. They hung her shirts up and folded her pants to put in the drawers, her shoes going in the opened faced shelves. Johnny mentioning she needed more.

"She's got more. A lot more." Her dad is leaning in the doorway, watching. The sight making his worries fade. "She and my wife are one in the same about shoes." Her cheeks turn red as he talks.

"I think all women like shoes." Price smiles her way. He likes a woman in pretty shoes too.

"I can ship her things back here when I get home." Sarah scrunches up her brows, but Johnny beats her to the punch.

"That's gonna cost a pretty penny ya' know." Johnny waves a black clothes hanger for emphasis. Her father nods, waves his hand.

"She's worth every penny. Spend every dime I had if it meant she'd be happy." Sarah feels weird. A mixture of happy and, guilt, maybe? Happy to have her dad here and the boys who really seem to care, but guilty for having to put them through it. Her dad who spent two years being told she was dead. Left to imagine the worst for her, terror griping him at every turn. Forced to face every parents worst nightmare day after day. All because of her. Because she couldn't do her job right. She was the sniper, the lookout. The Raven. She failed. Failed her mission, her teammates, herself. She should have seen the signs they were there. Heard their footsteps. Maybe if she had cased the area beforehand? Or maybe if she had chosen a different spot, one closer to where her team was supposed to converge? Should have screamed louder, fought harder, used her teeth more. She was the Raven, there was no reason they should have overpowered her that easy, she trained every day for missions twice as hard. Should have slit her thro… Price is pulling at her hand, yanking her to her feet. He squeezes her shoulders a little to get rid of that glassy daze in her eyes.

"Tell the boys we'll be down in a second, will ya' lovie?" Waits until she looks him in his eyes and nods, smiles at him. Then sends her on her way, her dad walking with her.

"Whatdya' think she thinks 'bout when she gets lost?" Price isn't sure. Well, he thinks he knows but doesn't wanna be right. He shakes his head, eyes catching Johnny's.

"Russia." He leaves it at that.

[slasherfckr]

Hii!!!

You know some people have alligator to be they pet right?

So I wonder how the slashers react S/O have an alligator pet?

Bo Sinclair must, and whatever slashers you want to write.

Thank you and hope you have a good day!!

Omg I absolutely love this ❤️ If they weren't wild, dangerous as hell and illegal to own, I'd definitely have a long teefer toofer (what my family calls Gators and Crocodiles. Weird I know 😭)

----------------------------------

Only doing Bo Sinclair and Jason Voorhees for this right now. Maybe I'll come back and do some more slashers cause honestly I need to do Michael Myers' reaction to a damn Gator 🤣

Various Slashers x S/O who brings home a gator

Bo Sinclair

"I'm home!" Bo called out. No one answered. He didn't expect Vincent to say anything but he did at least expect you to come up running to him and tell him about your day, even though nothing in particular ever happens.

He headed to the bedroom you two shared and as he got closer, he could hear you giggling like a little schoolgirl from behind the door.

"Hey, why didn't you-" Bo stopped right in his tracks as he opened the door and found you on the floor in the middle of the room with a juvenile alligator next to you.

You turned your head to him and gave him a big smile. "Bo! Look what I found while I was out with Lester!" You gently grabbed your new friend and held him up towards Bo.

"I named him Tim. He really enjoys belly scratches! Can we keep him? Please?" You looked up at him, trying to give him the most pathetic puppy eyes you could. Bo only sighed and pinches the bridge of his nose in response.

"Now, ya know I love ya. But this is possibly the most stupidest thing I've ever seen you do. You do realize this thing could absolutely kill you when it gets bigger right?"

As he said this, you realized he was right. Disappointed, you stood up with Tim and went to go out to put him back where you found him but not before Bo put a hand on your shoulder.

"Hold on I wasn't finished. I don't mind if ya kept....Tim. He seems like a very fine gator. But we both know Vincent would most likely turn him into a pair of shoes or something, yeah? How about we find a spot somewhere in Ambrose where Vincent won't find him?"

Your eyes lit up and your smile returned to your face. If you didn't have Tim in your arms, you would give Bo the biggest hug you could give. So instead you settled for something else

"Thank you Bo!" You planted a kiss on his cheek as you thanked him.

-----------

Jason Voorhees

You peeked into the window of the cabin you shared with Jason. You didn't see him anywhere. Taking this as a good sign, you carefully opened the door and lugged in the box you were carrying.

Not taking any chance that Jason could be upstairs, you made your way to the small basement and went down. You found a small little area and put the box down. Opening it, you found your new little friend asleep.

Smiling, you gently rubbed the top of his head with the side of your finger as to not wake him. Or her. You couldn't tell the sex of your new alligator. They weren't very big but definitely weren't a baby. Maybe 4 feet long? You'd have to measure and weight the poor thing later.

You were on your way home from town when you spotted the gator on the side of the road. As far as you knew, Alligators weren't found in New Jersey. Poor fella must have been abandoned by someone who thought they could handle an exotic pet like this you figured. You just hope Jason wouldn't mind this new addition to the household.

You got your friend set up with a little warming area and took some raw meat from the fridge down for them. It took a while but you managed to find a small tub like container in the basement for them and filled it with luke warm water. After setting your new friend up, you needed to find Jason.

You first searched the cabin and turned up with nothing. You figured this would be the outcome as he typically wandered the campgrounds during the day, looking for trespassers. The sun was setting so you knew he'd be back shortly. You decided to go back to your gator friend and keep them company until then.

. . .

You didn't realize how long you were down in the basement for but it was long enough for you to accidentally doze off on the spare couch downstairs and to have Jason come home. You were woken up when Jason had come down looking for you. He's seen a lot of things but he never expected to find a 4 foot gator creeping up on his sleeping S/O in the basement of the cabin.

He immediately went over and picked you up bridal style, doing his best to avoid the animal in the basement completely.

"Jason? What are you doing? Put me back down there!" He ignored your request and set you on the couch upstairs. Your eyes widened when you saw him grab his machete and head towards the basement door.

"Woah, woah, woah! Hold on!" Jason stopped and turned to you. You got up and ran to him. You held your hand out for the machete.

"Hand it over. I can't let you hurt Chompers." Jason hesitated but he eventually gave up his weapon, tilting his head in confusion in the process.

"Chompers...You named it?" He signed. You nodded as you took his hand and led him down to the basement. Chompers was back in their little corner, chomping away at some leftover meat you had put down there earlier. You let go of Jason's hand so you could go and sit with your scaly friend.

"See? Friend. I found them on the side of the road coming home from town. I couldn't just leave them alone, Jason. Can we keep them? Just until we can find a sanctuary or something that'll take 'em? They aren't native here. They won't survive in the wild on their own."

You could see Jason mentally debating this. It seemed like forever before he gave a big huff and nodded. You jumped to your feet and hugged him tightly.

"Thank you! I'm sure you two will become good friends too!" You smiled up at him. He hugged back and patted your head before going back upstairs.

[sawyerconfort]

Hey. Could u do a prompt 50 & 52 with Madison Montgomery. Her just dominating fem!reader and being soft at the same time?

Hi anon, sorry it took so long! I know it's been a while since you asked, I hope you're happy anyway…

I'm loving that everyone keeps asking me for Madison stuff around here, I really do. I understand the hype, she's super powerful and she's a bad girl after all.

I already advance that smut requests won't always come out well, because I'm terrible at these things, but I hope you like it, I do my best.

And you, reader who hasn't asked yet, don't bother asking, feel free! I take a while, but I write!

Enjoy!

--------------

50. "let me unzip your dress, please." 52. "use your words."

The Seven Wonders exam was stressing everyone out. Not just Cordelia and Myrtle, the possible authorities, but the younger witches. The competition had become a game of life and death, and it was terrifying to think that others would need to die for just one to rise as the new Supreme.

Only one witch in particular seemed unaffected: Madison Montgomery.

"Lift your head, open your eyes, wear some makeup, (Y\N), come on, cheer up!" "Everyone knows what the outcome will be, but maybe the tables will turn, and you'll be our new queen, who knows?"

You huffed, throwing yourself on the bed and looking up at the ceiling. "I don't know, Madison."

"You know, sweetie, I bet you do."

Her voice was so convincing that you could easily assume she was just training her mind control skills on you. It was common to want to improve the gifts that you could have, gifts that would help you reach the "throne".

"I know exactly what you need, (Y\N)…" she said, biting her lip. "You need a girl to convince you of your potential… And you're in luck, even more so today."

"Am I?" you frowned, confused.

Madison didn't give you time to think. She simply slithered across the bed like a snake and sat between your legs, wrapping her arms around you with a teasing giggle that automatically had you looking at her mouth.

"Let me unzip your dress, please", she asked in a whisper. "Just to show you how good it can be." You frowned again. "Don't worry, it's just a massage. I promise."

Her reputation didn't help much, but you allowed Madison to unzip your dress, relieving you of at least one pang on your conscience. You didn't know whose idea it was to wear these dress clothes, but they didn't help matters.

Madison started with her hands roaming over your shoulders, gently going over every corner of your skin and every corner of your insecurities. She was relishing the opportunity, you could hear her chuckle as you moaned softly with relaxation. Of course, with someone like Madison Montgomery, a massage would never be just a massage.

"Like that, don't you?" she asked, leaning very close to his ear. "That's good, I didn't even need to read your mind to know that… It never fails." That made her laugh for some reason.

Inevitably, you found yourself wondering how many girls Madison had fooled with Muggle "chill out" speeches, and even how many boys. Suddenly the doubt seemed genuine, and you couldn't resist the urge to ask:

"How many people do you fool a day with that speech of yours?"

Madison was still laughing, and then her hands came out of the massage to support her as she leaned over and whispered in your ear. "Why? You think I'm fooling you, do you?"

Without waiting for an answer, she bit her earlobe and chuckled, a cold, villainous laugh, just like her type. You felt your body shiver with the contact, and suddenly, she threw you on the bed, stopping on top of you.

"We're not going to do anything you don't want to, but you can let me prove I'm being sincere, right?", she whispered, cupping your cheeks and squeezing them. "There's a high possibility that one night of sex will calm you down, you know?"

You rolled your eyes and Madison smiled.

"Oh, no, no, no mockery, let me get rid of these clothes and show you what I'm capable of!", she said, dominating your entire body while kissing you and going through ways to take your clothes off while doing so, taking advantage of your distraction. "Blimey, (Y\N), you're obedient, hm?"

"Yeah, but don't take advantage, okay?", you laughed. "I want to dominate this shit too."

Madison smiled, but it was more than clear that she was the only person who could rule here, within the four walls. You just gave in, because there was nothing more desperate and breathless than her kisses all over your body, wet on your lips and especially too long to take. And then there were her fingers, running over every part of your most intimate parts.

She started in slow strokes, one finger, rasping as she bent her body to reach your pussy better. The other hand, which was useless at the moment, traced full circles across your nipples and made you forget to breathe.

Still feeling dizzy and uncomfortable, you arched as Madison inserted two fingers at once, laughing happily at your reaction. However, your shortness of breath made her alert, and she lifted her head instantly.

"Are you okay? Shall I continue?", she whispered, not wanting the others to hear the onomatopoeia coming out of that room.

You took a deep breath, lifting your head slightly, but you couldn't say anything other than "I…"

"Use your words." Madison insisted, still whispering.

"Just fuck me, Madison Montgomery."

She smiled and took a deep breath, relieved, as she came back more calmly, but with the same intensity and euphoria in her body, introducing the same fingers inside you. She loved seeing you delivered, moaning for her and for her only. And then, after a while, you melted and came for her, sliding until Madison tasted you all over.

You took a breath and lay down side by side, with her head on your chest, smiling from ear to ear.

"Hmmm, really nice… We could do this more often, honey," she whispered, running her fingers over your exposed skin and giggling when she noticed you were flinching and getting goosebumps.

"Okay, I guess…", you whispered back. "But you're going to let me dominate next time, right?"

"All for you, my love," she said, before kissing. "You know, I don't care about missing the Seven Wonders test anymore. I already have my private Wonder right here, and I know, with all my might, that she's going to come back to me for the rest of her life. Because she is tied to me, for all eternity."

[hpowellsmith]

How do you feel when romanceable NPCs get together with each other? I'd love to hear what you do and don't like about it!

I hate it too in general, but I think it depends on how it's presented.

I saw people before mention that when an RO always ends up with another NPC in every route where the MC isn't romancing them, then that just feels like a weird personal insert of the author. I agree.

When a game is all about the choices of the player, then it feels like this completely defeats the whole purpose. It makes the reader feel like the route where they did romance that character didn't matter at all because RO canonically would rather be with NPC. So why make them a romance option in the first place? It's fine if non-romanceable NPCs get together, even better if I get to play matchmaker, but then don't make them romance options for the MC. (I'm looking at you DA Veilguard because boy this pissed me off so much in the game)

I always assume that those authors who force ROs together (without player choice) never expect the players to make several playthroughs where they romance different characters but then lol they don't know their audience at all which is... not a good look.

On the other hand, if the game gives me a choice about it in the form of "hey do you want these two to start dating?" then thank you, now we're talking! I can say no, or I can say yes. Feels like matchmaking again, but it doesn't figuratively erase my past routes where I happened to romance one of those characters, plus, it gives me a cool new choice to make.

I think you did an excellent good job with this in your own books (and sorry this got long).

this is in response to the question:

How do you feel when romanceable NPCs get together with each other? I'd love to hear what you do and don't like about it!

This was great to hear, thank you! (and there's never a need to apologise about writing a lot!)

I want to gently disagree on a couple of things:

First, that authors who write romanceable NPCs getting together don't expect players to play several times. On the contrary, I imagine that a lot of authors who do this know players will play multiple times, and think it's fun to show how different outcomes can unfold in response to different choices from the player. I don't know this for sure, because I'm only one person, but when I've written it, that's part of why (and I always assume people will see things more than once, whatever the scene!)

Secondly, particular relationships feeling "canon" - again speaking only for myself not for other authors, I don't consider any path or relationship canon. Anything that branches is all equally canon or non-canon in my eyes!

All of that said, I totally get what you mean about wanting it to be part of the player/PC's choices - I do think it can be great fun to matchmake and it's something that the player can opt into or out of however they feel. I think as with a lot of things with interactive narrative, introducing choice and agency tends to make things that someone might not enjoy if it was framed in a different way feel better.

Sidenote, it's a bit of a balance working out how to do it without it feeling like characters giving an odd amount of control over their lives to the PC, though! I think I could get away with it in Royal Affairs because the PC is just so fancy, but in other situations it might feel a bit weird.

(I have been thinking a lot about choice and responsiveness in my current outline actually - unrelated to NPC-NPC romances, but about some plot elements/setpieces and twiddling the "player agency" dial in various directions to make things feel fun and impactful)

[skylermadness]

A Bond Forged in Steel (Zeke Von Genbu and Rex (Future Redeemed) TF)

(Original Date of Upload: March 25, 2024)

Original Description:

Story commission. This story was honestly extremely fun to write out! I've been wanting to do TFs of Zeke and Rex's Future Redeemed incarnation for a very long time, so being able to do so and be given to play with some homoeroticism is honestly quite the bargain for me. Plus, I mean, they're both extremely hot. Although this is definitely my first time doing a double TF/MG. Most doubles I've done had both characters be practically completely different in body types and whatnot so this was definitely a first time for me! Overall I'm really happy with the outcome and hope I get more chances to do stuff like this again! ...I still crave Xenoblade men TF. There needs to be more. Rated Mature for nudity, bulge, and mild sexual themes.

   Anniversaries have always been an interesting day for some couples. Certain compulsions arising on varying ends of the relationship for one person to show the other just how much they care. In the end it meant ensuring a rather fulfilling experience for everyone involved. Unfortunately it can quickly devolve into a stressful time as the all-important date approaches for the couple in question.

   So Zack was rather lucky that he didn't have to deal with that stress. In truth, the current day that was today is his anniversary with his boyfriend Nathan. Their romantic relationship has been going on for exactly a year now and Zack had wanted to commemorate the occasion with something special. A surprise gift for the person he loved, and one that he knew Nathan would adore…

   It was actually a week ago that he had the initial thought for this idea. Considering that his boyfriend was quite the fanatic for the Xenoblade Chronicles series of games, Zack had wanted to find a gift that would align with that particular interest. At first his search was rather fruitless, being mostly varying assortments of fairly pricey figurines or small custom trinkets that while looking pretty didn't feel like they'd convey his care as much as he would want them to. In the end it wasn't until just three or so days ago that he had finally found just what he truly needed.

   Life-sized weapon replicas.

   It was a weird find to say the least, alongside being oddly coincidental since they were being sold at a cosplay shop near where they shared an apartment were a menagerie of (presumably) plastic prop weapons for varying characters from the game series. While the more iconic weapons such as Shulk’s Monado and Noah’s Sword could be found in its stock, Zack had been more focused on finding proper recreations of the swords owned by the favorite characters of his significant other. 

   As he thought that he had seemed to ride off the same stroke of luck that brought him to this store’s website in the first place. With just a bit of scrolling he ended up finding the exact swords he was looking for being listed. Those being Zeke Von Genbu and Pandoria’s shared Big Bang Edge greatsword, and the Firelight Swords that Rex wielded in the 3rd game’s Future Redeemed expansion. All three of which seemed to only go for twenty five dollars each. 

   With that price calculation being a measly seventy five dollars total it didn't take long for Zack to set up a reservation to buy them in person. That's where he was today, the young man standing outside the store whose site he visited just mere days earlier: Maurice’s Exceptional Cosplay Collectibles.

   Seeing as he was here with a purpose Zack was quick to push open the door and walked into the shop, a bell above the entrance signaling his arrival. A cursory glance around the shop seemed to prove only one other person was inside with him. A relatively older-looking, balding and bearded man that was behind the store’s counter. Said counter also seemed to have three objects set atop it that could instantly be recognized as the swords the younger man had reserved.

   “Ah, take it yer that Zack fellow?” the older man, Maurice, inquired upon noticing the other’s entrance. “Didn’ anticipate you comin’ this early. Was just gettin’ ready to bag yer stuff!”

   Zack gave the storekeeper a casual wave as he walked towards the counter. “Yep, that would be me! Ended up wanting to get the stuff early. I guess the thought of my boyfriend’s reaction upon seeing these spurred me to come as quickly as I could.”

   Maurice smiled and nodded. “Gift for a loved one, eh? Seein’ as yer here you could take a look at yer order as I find a bag large enough to hold ‘em all.”

   “Sounds good!” Zack gave a thumbs up. Now that he was properly at the counter he could get a proper look at these objects in person…

   It was astonishing just how accurate the three replicas seemed to be. The sheer size of them was almost to the scale of the scenes he had seen in the games. The massive and wide broadsword of the Big Bang Edge, its rectangular pommel adorned with lightning bolt-shaped formations jutting from its sides. The Firelight Swords looked like the Aegis blades but still possessed clear differences to them that made it seem like they looked to be two halves of one blade. It all made Zack impressed, and he was rather glad to have gotten a chance to buy them all for a rather cheap price. Especially with how high quality they all seemed!

   While the young man had gawked at the replicas, Maurice had spent his time placing a good few plastic bags into each other so the blades wouldn't tear through everything. “Should consider requestin’ people bring their own bags for this stuff-” he muttered to himself. Though once all the bags were prepared he turned back to the counter. “Everything looks good to ya?”

   “Yep!” Zack responded enthusiastically. “I just wonder how you managed to create such life-like recreations…”

   Maurice let out a low chuckle as he placed each sword into the bag. “Trade secret, kid~”

   He then placed the bagged-up blades onto the counter. “Feel free to skedaddle now. Hope yer boyfriend loves these things!”

   “I’m absolutely sure he will!” Zack said with a smile. He hoisted the bag around his shoulder, wobbling a bit at the realization of how weighty these things seemed to feel. “Oh these are a little heavier than I expected too…”

   With the transaction now completed, the young man made his way out of the store with the objects in tow. All the while the storekeeper smiled a very knowing smile.

                                        ----------------------------------------------------------

   Having managed to net himself a day off from work, Nathan had spent much of the morning at his and his boyfriend’s shared apartment finishing up whatever JRPG of the month he was on while waiting for Zack to come back home. He wasn't initially aware that the other man was going to be leaving, nor did he really know where they had gone. His boyfriend just gave him a casual ‘I’m heading out for a bit!’ and left before he had a chance to ask anything. That was roughly an hour ago though.

   Now the time was hovering close to noon and Nathan’s gaming excursion was interrupted by the sound of the apartment’s front door opening. Pausing his game, he looked over to the entrance to find Zack struggling with hauling what seemed to be three swords in a bag on his back.

   “Could I get some help here-” Zack strainly asked, prompting Nathan to get up from the couch and help him out.

   “Christ, man, what the hell were you up to out there!?” Nathan inquired. He let Zack lean on him for a little bit as the other man steadily shifted the bag off of their shoulder.

   “This!” was Zack’s only response as the bag collapsed onto the ground, a chorus of metal clangs reverberating from it as it fell.

   “Wha…” Nathan's gaze wandered to look at the contents of Zack’s bag. While had initially noticed while his boyfriend was walking in that it was some kind of collection of swords, the moment his eyes laid onto them he realized just what kind of swords they were.

   “X-Xenoblade merch!?” he exclaimed. “Not just that but, such real looking blade replicas…”

   He went to pick up one of the objects, the red blade that was one half of Rex’s Firelight Swords. He struggled a bit to just pick it up with one hand. He surmised it was because of the metallic make of them based on how the blade’s grip felt in his hand. An assumption that was instantly confirmed once he held the blade out in front of him.

   “Did you go to some kind of metal workshop for this!? This looks like an actual sword!”

   “No, I got them from some kind of cosplay store in the inner city,” Zack responded. He curiously picked up one of two remaining blades, this time the Big Bang Edge. Although considering its size he had to use both hands instead of just one. “I-I could've sworn these were plastic when I bought them though!” he nervously stated. “No way a bunch of real swords would go for seventy five dollars total, y'know?”

   “I’m just going to state it outright,” Nathan hauled up the white and gold Firelight Sword out of the bag with the other hand. “I think you bought three real ass swords. Although the fact you got actual realistic replicas of some Xenoblade objects is so…” he fixed his gaze at the two swords he was holding. “Astonishing.”

   “I take it you like them?” Zack said with a hopeful smile.

   “Like them? I love them! I don't know where I'd put them all but, between the realistic appearance and the sheer accuracy and-” he was about to go on a tangent, but he began to feel something off the longer he held onto both sword grips. “How recently forged were these? They still feel a little hot…”

   “What?” Zack raised a brow. He then started to hear a low, almost inaudible crackling noise from his own blade. Looking down at it, he found that his own sword was sparking somehow. Small bolts of electricity escaping and spiraling around the blade in some mesmerizing dance. “Woah, dude, do you see this?”

   “Uh, I think you should maybe put that down-”

   “Yeah, that'd probably be a good-”

   Zack didn't get a chance to finish his sentence as the sparks of electricity promptly emanated from the weapon's hilt and in just one second shocked both hands that were gripped onto it. With a yelp of pain the young man unhanded the blade and let it collapse unceremoniously on the ground. “C-crap-”

   A look of concern formed on Nathan’s face. “Are you okay!?”

   “I…” Zack began formulating a response, but stopped as he looked down at his hands.

   A feeling of pins and needles coursed through both of Zack’s hands. A sensation that could only be equated to feeling like touching television static. And the longer that sensation remained the more a strange series of changes began to ensue in each hand. One of the most noticeable changes came in the form of their size altering, growing in front of his very eyes. Swelling out to become larger and thicker, quickly becoming a far cry from their previously smaller appearance. It was as if their bone structure and muscle mass was just increasing in size, improving almost. This would become quite prevalent when it came to his fingers. Each one plumped up and thickened, further granting his hands a more powerful appearance. 

   “Uhhh…” the young man vocalized as he watched everything unfold. His gaze was then brought to his arms as he felt a weird swelling sensation within them.

   Thanks to the shorter sleeves of his shirt Zack was also granted quite the view of his transforming limbs. Much like with his hands the forearm region of each arm began to rapidly accumulate muscle mass. Quickly did they swell thicker, the once thin form of them being consumed by the burgeoning appearance of raw strength. As muscles grew they only became more tangible, creases forming in his skin over where muscle groups would divide. It was almost as if the young man was being granted some kind of instantaneous appearance of years of working out and improving his muscles.

   His upper arms weren't being left unscathed either. While the extensors in his forearms expanded, the muscle groups above his elbows were quick to follow. He could feel his sleeves begin to constrict as the diameter of the region increased in size. A low heat and a sensation of static buzzed through his sensory nerves as his upper arms bulked up, once non-existent biceps burgeoning with raw power while his triceps matured alongside them. Fabric would only continue stretching over his shoulders as his deltoids were developed greatly in size, rounding out and perfectly indenting themselves into the article of clothing.

   Zack had been left rather awestruck. Despite the strange feeling coursing through his muscles, he could tell just how raw the strength within them seemed to feel. He couldn't deny the uncanny feeling of the situation though. Managing to break out of his stunned daze the young man could only say, “N-Nathan, I don't know what's happening-”

   Nathan had been watching the start of Zack’s transformation, a worried look having formed on his face. He didn't know what was happening either, especially since people just don't spontaneously become muscular! But he was having trouble trying to come up with anything calming. This situation was proving itself to be complicated from the get-go.

   Nathan then realized just how hot the blades he was holding were getting. For just a second he moved his focus away from his boyfriend and onto the white and gold sword of the pair, and that’s when he caught that it seemed to be glowing. Out of a mixture of surprise and a feeling that he couldn't for too long hold two objects that felt like they were becoming as hot as a stovetop, he had quickly dropped the Firelight Swords before anything could happen. It would seem it was already too late for him though and a burning heat entered his core forcing Nathan to grunt as he clenched his chest. 

   “Fuck-” was the only word he could spit out. In his mind though he was already connecting the dots. Was he about to start to change as well?!

   It would only take a few seconds for the answer of that question to arise. Whereas Zack’s transformation had started in his hands, Nathan’s seemed to begin in his chest. As heat welled up in his core he could feel a sensation of swelling within his pectoral region. This was proven to be caused by his chest garnering definition of its own. Nathan had been a fairly skinny guy since the man had not really been one to do much in working on his muscles. However as seconds continued to pass his once relatively flat chest expanded outwards. Pecs were rapidly forming and pushing forward becoming thicker, larger than they had ever been previously. The best way to describe them were two meaty slabs that had risen from his chest. This new development in his musculature also formed a crevice between the two pectorals. This perfectly defined cleavage had easily indented itself into the fabric of his polo shirt, as did the muscles themselves.

   If that wasn't enough he could also feel a churning sensation in his abdominal region. This was being caused by even more muscles developing within the man. His tummy, once only flat with an average amount of fat for a young adult layered on it, was becoming just as chiseled and defined as his chest. Ridges indented into his skin as a set of abs just pushed outwards. Any initial bagginess of his shirt would be dispelled in an instant as these muscles enhanced themselves and further made their presence known by indenting into the fabric more and more. Gone would be the skinny torso of an average man, now replaced by a more brawnier appearance. That wasn't the end for Nathan’s changes either as he felt a pressure wrack his spine, soon followed by the sensation that his body being tugged upwards. The hem of his shirt was rising as a result of this, revealing a light dusting of hair beginning to make its way up the middle of his lower abdominal region.

   Nathan let out another grunt as he forced himself to stand up straight. A hand still clenched over his chest as the heat continually poured across his form. He could practically feel the upper portion of his shirt sleeves begin to constrict. “We- we both are becoming so… muscular, it seems…”

   “Y-yeah,” Zack strained out. He still felt a bit stunned, and the sight of his boyfriend growing such a massive shelf had been a little concerning. But at the same kind he couldn't hide his blushing at just how big Nathan’s pecs seemed to have gotten now. It made him a little bit envious.

   Of course as Zack feels that emotion he begins to feel a tinge in his own chest. He took his gaze off Nathan and forced his head downward, and instantly he was greeted with the sight of his own pectorals pressing up on his shirt by just a bit. They only seemed to continue as well by pressing forward more, developing their own proper thickness that seemed to get more prominent as his body seemed to broaden. The young man could only watch in awe as his pec muscles inched forward and continued to swell and round out into perfect slabs themselves that just forced the shirt he wore to stretch over and outline their perfect physique. He had even gotten his own cleavage indent within the fabric too.

   The lower half of his torso wouldn't be left out from these changes either. He could just barely see his abdominal region bubble as he was granted the sight of his own abs advancing in musculature. His abs would sculpt themselves out of his relatively unimpressive form and etch ridges into his skin to properly divide the muscle groups. All the while he was privy to the sight of a six pack set of abs miraculously manifesting from his body and replacing his once twinkish nature.

   The spontaneous muscle growth in Nathan had seemed to be in the process of shifting to match Zack’s. As Zack was fixated on his torso, Nathan’s eyes had been brought over to his arms. Unlike his boyfriend Nathan had been wearing a long-sleeved shirt, so he wasn't initially granted the perfect view of his bulking arms. But with the passing of time he would still be given the sight of something.

   The best way to describe the way his arms changed was it felt akin to watching a balloon get pumped with a constant flow of air. Each limb was effectively pumped with muscle at a smooth and steady rate. It was a rather majestic sight just watching his shoulders broaden with perfectly developed deltoids, or seeing his biceps and triceps swell up into rounded cantaloupes. All while the material of his sleeves tried their best to hang on and contain his constantly growing muscle mass. But not even they could handle his thick upper arm muscles and it didn't take long for him to see his shirt sleeves tear over his biceps. 

   His forearms had been enduring the same changes concurrently as well. Bulking up with raw muscle to such a point that he could the crevices through the fabric of his sleeves. Just the raw definition of it all was enough to overwhelm him more than the heat in his heart was doing. Such perfect form that almost felt like it belonged to someone who spent ages working hard to get their muscles to this size.

   That process of thoughts had even seemed to be proven as his hands grew. Rapidly increasing in size to match his massive proportions, swelling to be larger and thicker. Just a raw sense of strength that exuded from each growing hand as if they had the ability to punch straight through a wall. An idea that could be further supported by his slightly chunkier fingers, the digits needing to have grown as well to accommodate his new hand size. But what really got him was the tingling in his palms, the sensation in his clenched hand as he felt the skin upon it seem to almost harden a bit. As if despite the almost pristine condition of them there was still a certain amount of age that had to be added to his hands. Age that would manifest in wear and tear, something that could easily come in the form of callusing of the skin.

   His limbs seemed to have been dealt with now. This had meant that Nathan and Zack were on equal terms physically for the time being. Although as Nathan looks over towards Zack he can tell the other man still seemed a bit smaller in comparison to him. He could also see a strange look of poorly hidden embarrassment on the other’s face as well. A look that Nathan knew all too well…

   “A-are you enjoying this!?” Nathan inquired.

   The sudden outburst made Zack yelp. “I-I- maybe!? I'm just…” the young man shakily brought a hand to his chest, a chorus of rips echoing through the air from his short sleeves as he did so. “Muscle…”

   Nathan blinked a few times. He couldn't deny himself that the sudden growth in muscle was rather appealing… but this was all so weird! He can't just let that strangeness slide-

   “H-hey, wait… can you say something…?” Zack had suddenly asked out of the blue.

   “Eh?” Nathan raised a brow. “Why would you- w-wait, my-”

   His voice. He could hear his voice cracking at random intervals, and each time it did so it had seemingly gotten deeper. Even weirder was that it was altering beyond that in varying degrees as well. It's tone, it's pitch, and was his accent shifting too!?

   Nathan looked straight at Zack, preparing himself to hear his voice again as he was about to verbally make a comment about it. His words were halted almost instantly in his throat however, mouth hanging open as he seemed fixated on something. Zack seemed to catch onto this though.

   “Why are you looking at me like that…?” Zack asked, oblivious. “Is something happening to my… face…”

   His statement trailed off as something silvery began entering his field of vision from above and continued growing downward more for a few seconds before stopping. This didn't seem to stop though as a few more bits of silver descended upon the leftward portion of his field of vision. But at this point he knew what it seemed to be, the young man bringing a hand up to his face to grasp onto a clump of this silvery growth.

   “My hair, it's growing… longer…?” Zack then unhanded the newly grown tufts of hair. However as he lowered his hand he too noticed something on his boyfriend’s face as well. “D-dude, I think your hair’s becoming a bit-” the statement is broken by a sudden caught before he continued, “-funky as well- o-oh crap…”

   As much as Nathan wanted to comment on Zack’s own voice changes, his curiosity got the better of him. He mustered just enough strength so he could move his currently unoccupied hand to the top of his head. There he found the feeling that his hair had gotten a little bit thicker, fuller than it had used to be. “What the hell…”

   “This just-” Zack cleared his throat to try in vain to dispel his own shifting voice. “This just keeps getting weirder!”

   Zack visibly cringed at the sound of his voice. How was it that in just a few seconds his voice had gone from being normal to sounding weirdly over the top!? It didn't sound deeper since it still sounded like one that could possibly belong to a young adult. However it was feeling like the tone of it was becoming more flamboyant.

   “Mmf, you’re telling me…” Nathan responded. His focus had gone back down to looking at his body. He had taken note that his polo continued to strain over his torso, and the placket of it was just being stretched out from his wider form. A moment of curiosity dictated his next action as he decided to inhale a deep breath, wincing a bit as it still felt like his heart was burning. But the action of his chest rising caused the shirt to begin splitting down the middle. He then exhaled from a sigh. That act alone seemed to be enough to start the steady dispelling of his weird heartburn at least…

   “Y-you do have a nice chest there, eheh…” Zack complimented. Nathan just rolled his eyes, although he couldn't stifle the blush he got from the compliment. Although come to think of it he was also beginning to feel something else strange welling up around the lower half of his body. That's when he noticed his pants were feeling a bit tighter now as well.

   This tightness was initially signified by the newfound constriction around his waist. However it only seemed to increase as he felt the now-familiar feeling of muscles growing thanks to the transformative effects having reached his legs. The denim of his jeans pressed tightly against his skin as he felt his thigh muscles swell up and bulge up. As was in the rest of his body a sizeable thickness was just constantly being added on to Nathan’s legs to the point the muscle ridges indented in the legwear’s material. The perfectly sculpted appearance of his hamstrings and quadriceps were becoming fully tangible through it all.

   Perhaps that wasn't the most interesting part though. That came with the sensation of his gluteus muscles growing out and the pure sensation of his briefs being filled up. The once perfectly fitting undergarments were quickly filled in the behind by his rear swelling up. Muscle bloating it up larger while fat rounded his ass out more. The size was becoming so prominent that the seat of his pants had ended up filling out as well. It didn't take long until Nathan developed a perfectly rounded rear end, a newly developed bubble butt straining the back of his pants and underwear.

   The front of him wasn't spared from this kind of change either judging by the sensation of the frontal area of his briefs straining against something. A new, much lower heat formed in Nathan’s cheeks as he felt a rather pleasuring sensation deep in his groin. A feeling that the components in that region were increasing in size like the rest of his body had done. He couldn't help but look down to witness it all himself: the sight of a growing mount forming at the front of his jeans, the odd sound of the zipper snapping to allow him to see the pristine white of his undergarments. That mound continued to form more and more as his member burgeoned in size. He had gotten a bulge, and it felt… euphoric in a way.

   He nervously looked up at Zack, hoping he could take his focus off his groin for a bit. Although he had instantly taken note of his boyfriend’s flustered state. Nathan guessed their transformations were mirrored in every way, it would seem.

   Concurrent with Nathan’s own transformation, Zack had found his own lower half swelling up as well. His shorts had typically hung off his rather skinny legs in a fairly standard way initially, but with the growth of his own thigh muscles it seemed that became a false statement. The proper fitting of his own legwear was dispelled, easily replaced with the same swelling of muscle mass that had been going on in his entire body. It didn't help that the material of his shorts seemed to not be the most durable which had made his ears privy to the sound of the seams ripping from the strain of his much more powerful muscles.

   Then came the changes to his own assets. The odd churning in Zack’s behind as he felt his rear bloat and swell. The constant sensation of the back of his legwear and undergarments straining against his increasingly larger ass. The fact he couldn't help but reach a hand down and behind himself to just feel the newly developing roundness of his rear from beneath his shorts. It was such a foreign feeling to the young man, especially since he always felt his butt was rather flat before all of this. So being able to experience this weird pressure that bloated his rear as it did his chest…

   Then there was the feeling of his groin shifting. That came with an emotion he couldn't suppress as well. He could already feel the blood rushing downwards as the nerves were stimulated by the sudden growth, the sudden feel of the easily satisfied skin suddenly pushing up against the cotton of his underwear and straining it. He just couldn't stop himself from using his other hand to just grab onto the swelling area. It just felt too erotic and it was taking all of his willpower not to just undo his shorts so he could let his own bulge hang out. He didn't though, what little desires of decency still remained in his now testosterone-ridden brain.

   “F… feeling good?” the deep, seemingly aged voice of Nathan calling from a few feet away. Zack couldn't help but deny how sexy that developing accent of his boyfriend’s was getting.

   “Nngh…” Zack failed to stifle a moan. “Yeah…”

   The remainder of the duo’s changes to their lower bodies happened in synchronicity. For Zack his lower legs were visible allowing the ballooning of his calves to be on full display. Meanwhile Nathan’s jeans were noticeably continuing to strain against his own growing calves, and the seams holding the jeans together finally started to become undone. It didn't take long for the thickness of each of their legs to reach an equalness to that of the rest of their bodies.

   The final portion of their lower bodies were the pair’s feet. This section of the transformation mirrored their hands, each foot growing out to be thicker and larger to fit their new bodily proportions. The toe caps of their shoes bulged with sets of bumps representing their increasingly chunkening toes. All the while the two of them could feel their heels dig into their footwear. The concurrency of their changes meant their shoes eventually started to rip apart at the same time, toecap steadily splitting off to allow the longer length of their feet to be freed. All the while the strings split apart against their newfound width. Both men’s shoes had become totalled by the end of these changes, allowing their feet to all be comfortable without being restricted by the confines of footwear.

   With the destruction of their shoes came even more destruction of their clothing. Nathan’s polo shirt was already getting pretty far in this as the shreds of its long sleeves hung off his arms while the torso section of it continued splitting apart against his massive muscles. The more his chest and abs became visible the more another, more minor change grew prominent. There was a formation of a light dusting of chest hair sprouting across his pecs, alongside a small trail of it running down the middle of his abs. The small amount of fuzz also seemed to have a grayish-brown tone to it that his hair hadn't usually possessed. 

   Meanwhile with Zack, the short sleeves of his shirt had split apart by this point. Long rips were tearing their way across the torso segment as well making his own muscled form increasingly visible. He also wasn't exempt from a weird addition to his chest either, although his was more unorthodox than Nathan’s had been. Visible from a rip that had formed over his right pectoral was a massive scar that etched itself into his flesh. Even stranger was the bright blue glow in the middle of the scar. Zack felt the sensation of something materialize and embed into his chest, which he quickly found out to be some kind of triangular-shaped gemstone.

   Nathan had watched the sight himself, and that was when everything finally clicked. “That gem…”

   “Wha…?”

   Nathan let his statement resonate a bit. The way his own voice was deepening, the Light Northern British accent that kept embedding into his speech, the purely aged and wisened tone of it all. The more he spoke the more he came to realize something about himself as well.

   “Nathan, you're looking like you realized something,” Zack spoke out. His own voice had seemed to be finally settling as well. The still over-the-top Southern England accept that resonates with his statements. It in itself was fairly distinct, recognizable.

   “Y-you haven't noticed it yet??” Nathan said, a bit dumbfounded. “The- the blades! They've been turnin’ us into their owners this whole time!”

   “...huh-” Zack looked down at his chest again. The crystal. Oh, oh. “Wait I'm becoming-”

   “Yeah.”

   “And you-”

   “Yep,” Nathan ended the chain with a nod.

   For a few seconds silence just hung in the air. Then Zack made a random comment: “I guess that'd explain why you're getting some facial hair…”

   Nathan raised a brow. “Eh?”

   With the heat in his chest finally gone he was able to more easily move himself around his little strain. He lifted up a hand to touch his chin and, unsurprisingly, grazed over a few hairs that had grown there. His fingers were even feeling more hairs grow in that region as well! From a secondary perspective it would appear that an amount of gray fuzz had sprouted from the base of his chin. It was fairly light at first, but as the seconds passed this newly developing chin stubble was growing to be a little thicker than just stubble. Facial hairs continued to grow out of his chin and developed a fairly average length. It wasn't long until the stubble appearance was now more of a thin patch of beard.

   That wasn't the only portion of his face that was changing either. While his small beard developed Nathan could feel a slight pressure extend across his skull. The shape of his skull was reconfigured into an almost rectangular appearance. Meanwhile his jawline felt like it was squeezed a little, and instead of squaring out the ends of it slanted diagonally a bit until its shape became a little more like a rounded triangle. All the while his facial features had been morphing alongside everything. The end of his nose became a little raised, the size of his eyes getting slightly larger, even his eyebrows seemed to thin out rather significantly. All the while it seemed a few wrinkles formed on his face, most noticeably beneath his eyes, which gave him a more aged appearance.The most drastic change came to his left eye however as in just a few seconds it was damaged to the point of losing sight and got scarred over. All of that forced Nathan to compulsively keep that eye shut.

   “That was sudden-” was the best reaction he could muster as he brought his hand up to graze the scar.

   The last part of his physical transformation came with his hair. It had already been in the process of changing just minutes prior, but now that was being sped up. The style constantly became thicker and fluffier as clumps were brought together to formulate a thick and spiky style. This spiky hairstyle continued to form as bits hung over his forehead, other bits jutted diagonally upwards on the sides and back of his head, and everything culminated with many of the spikes raising upwards on his head’s apex. Just a dense mass of spikes of hair rising from the top of his head in a neat, well-organized appearance. All the while the same grayish-brown that etched into the rest of his body hair was now forming in the hair on his head, rapidly overtaking it and fully replacing its previous color. The way his hair appeared in style and fluffiness at this point should be impossible to achieve, but here it was on his head.

   Zack’s own head has also been in the process of morphing all of this time as well. He didn't seem to develop any facial hair, but he did feel pressure wrack his own skull as his skull structure was forcibly shifted to fit his new body. While the upper portion of his skull became more equal and rounded, almost akin to a circle, his jawline slanted and chiseled triangle that blunted at his chin. His own features changed alongside this by having his eyes seem to thin a little, eyebrows thinning out a lot, and the width of his nose narrowing as the end of it rounded a bit. By the end it would seem his face gained a symmetrical visage that possessed an almost regal appearance.

   All that remained was the case of his hair which was now in the process of actively lengthening. As the almost metallic silver shine rose from the roots to overtake the follicle coloration, all of his hair just continued to grow longer. Bits of it hanging down and grazing his chin while other bits drifted around his ears. He could even feel portions of his hair touch the nape of his neck. It didn't seem to grow any longer than that though. It also didn't look to have that smooth of an appearance either as his own hair could be defined as spiky to some capacity. Long clumps just sticking out or curling at uneven intervals while a strange layering now seemed to exist in his hair. It too looked to be one impossible to attain hairstyle.

   With that their bodily changes were complete and the two were left just looking at each other. Two newly-minted brawny men in torn clothing, said men now looking like perfect copies of Zeke Von Genbu and Rex from Xenoblade Chronicles. To say they were utterly speechless right now was an understatement… then after a few seconds Zack just began to rip the tattered remains of his clothing off his body.

   “I am not just going to stand here in shards of my t-shirt!” Zack plainly stated, knowing his boyfriend was looking right at him. Nathan just watched before he too joined in the ripping off of what little remained of his more-than-ill-fitting clothing.

   As they both did that it seemed one final change was ensuing. Although in this case it was happening to their undergarments as for both of them did that article of clothing alter. Just barely growing in size but not enough to lose the prominent bulge, and the back of them shortening enough to reveal a bit of their bubble butts. All while the previous cottony material was hardened into nylon, and their previous colorations were rapidly shifted. For Zack the pure white was lost to a deep blue with gray geometric patterning on the sides, and for Nathan it became a dark gray with a bold blue X over front and back. It had seemed they both were wearing speedos now, and by the time they finished tearing off their clothes they took note of this fairly instantaneously.

   “Uhh, that's… different,” Nathan remarked. He honestly would've expected his clothing to have morphed into something else entirely but… this works, at least. Plus he could see Rex’s- or well, his massive muscles in all their heroic glory. Something about that thought made him feel his cheeks flush with red again. Especially since his gaze was moving up to his chest. Although he was broken out of this state pretty fast by Zack starting a conversation.

   “Zeke’s pretty built, isn't he?” Zack stated, flexing an arm and feeling just how firm the bicep had become. Despite how weird it all felt he could deny that something about all of this was hot!

   “I would've assumed you'd know that since you watched me play the second game,” Nathan responded. The now older-looking man then walked closer towards Zack, noticing that he was still at least an inch or two taller than the other man. “Although I think I'm the one that got a bit larger~”

   Nathan than flexed his own arms, knowing full well that Zack would ogle over them. In which yes, his boyfriend did end up doing so as his gaze was instantly drawn to the other’s thick muscles. Although he was a little taken aback that Zack had instantly come closer to actually start feeling them up.

   “Man, you're thick…” Zack complimented as he squeezed Nathan’s biceps. The statement itself sounded rather humorous as well since he had Zeke’s voice. “I think I might be a little jealous~”

   “Eh, don't be,” Nathan responded, his aged voice sounding so tender and caring. He brought a hand down onto Zack’s undamaged pectoral and gave it a nice, firm squeeze as well. “Your muscles are quite satisfying to feel too.”

   Nathan couldn't help but let out a deep chuckle as he say Zack blush. “O-oh really?”

   “Mhm…” Nathan nodded, beginning to inch his aged face closer to Zack’s still young adult one. “And I’d say you gave us both quite the spectacular surprise this anniversary.”

   Then, before Zack could even respond, Nathan pressed his lips up to Zack’s. An intense feeling of passion welled up between the two. Like their love for each other had been reaffirmed in some way. Even in different bodies from their own they were still absolutely irresistible to each other, and odds are taking on the form of two hot video games men just exacerbated that feeling by a hundred times. And the longer their mouths touched the more both men could feel their blood boiling and rushing through their bodies. They truly wanted each other more than ever…

   Then Nathan broke off the kiss, a playful smile forming on the man’s face. “Now how about I show you a thing or three in bed?” he practically purred in his accented voice.

   Zack, who was still blushing, let out a laugh. “Only if you call me the Bringer of Chaos there~”

   Nathan then wrapped his arms around Zack’s waist, bringing the other even closer to his body. “Anything for you, Zeke~”

   “Then how about we get going, Rex?”

   With those statements said the two men happily made their way to their bedroom, a very passionate anniversary having now been fully forged.

[nrdmssgs]

How to not motivate your favorite author to write

So recently this happened to a very dear friend of mine. And then this happened. I'm not tagging her deliberately, to not drag her name into any shitshow. I love her dearly and will fight with tooth and claw for this person.

I will be referring to my personal experience not because I want to make this 'a story about precious me', but because I can guarantee, that overall pattern of creative process will go along with these examples, and I don't want to torture others with interviews on their particular creative process examples.

I want to address that anon and talk a bit about how creative processes work. I am not a writer, but I have two art degrees, so I just happen to know a thing or two about creativity and its ways in human brains.

How creative process differs from creative outcome

Imagine a situation: you roam around your favorite network and find this one cool author, that seems to create something especially for you. I like their characters, their storyline, their ways with the language and overall scenery. You and them seems like a match made in heavens. There is only one 'but': you crave more.

You find your perfect fic, you read every chapter and end on a painful cliffhanger, poor you? But what if I tell you, that to complete this chapter, your favorite author had to process a ton of information, their own suggestions, 'what ifs', questions around every single detail, different dialogue and action options? What you see is a perfectly cut ice cube, but it took a freaking iceberg to make it. By the way, the same goes for illustrations. Remember this short comix?

Well, it took a day to create it, and actually drawing it took only 4 hours. Another 8 hours were spent on concept. Here are just 2 pages of my ideas, and I have like 8 pages of this.

And sometimes authors don't even write down their draft thoughts, but it doesn't mean, these thoughts doesn't exist. We are thinking about our stories while going for groceries, driving a car, doing laundry, taking shower and so on.

So if you read something, that is one-page long - it doesn't mean, that your favorite author spent an average 'fill one page with text' time interval to create it. You are reading an outcome, while the author went through the entire creative process!

How creating one thing may help you to create another thing

Sometimes you need to practice, just to get to know a new character/situation.

I had such difficulties, writing Nikto, that I wrote this and this just to bring this marvelous character to the latest part of my ongoing series. Yes, it took me a month to figure out this character, but it was worth it. So please, bear with an author, that makes little attempts, before going back to their magnum opus. Sketches and renders can and will help them evaluate the story, that you`ve fallen in love with in the first place!

Sometimes you need a break.

If you thought, reading some angst was not easy - just know, that writing it was also not easy. Sometimes authors speak on deeply personal topics, sometimes they express their negative emotions through hard and draining scenes and stories.

And before you say 'oh, but the author knew in advance what is yet to happen' - let me remind you, that the author relieves everything, their characters go through.

Creating something completely knew helps author to gain powers, to take a step further, to breathe and calm down.

Sometimes you just feel like shit.

You wake up, revisit, what you wrote yesterday, and you hate it. And you hate yourself for setting the bar so low. And a very right thing to do at this moment is to get yourself distracted by something completely new. Or even to force yourself to not go back to creating for a bit, so that your 'creativity muscles' get some rest.

So please don't be disappointed by your favorite creator for paying attention to other media/fandom/story/character. It may be their way (long and complicated) to go back to that very work, you liked so much.

What doesn't motivate authors

Punching them with 'hey, stop whatever you're doing and go back to that thing, I LIKED'. This will only make your fave creator freeze in a cycle of self-hate, diffidence, art blocks.

Comparison of their works. "Your Ghost fics are top, so stop writing about Gaz and turn into a full time Ghost praiser". Again, this won't motivate your fave to change their writing habits or preferences, this will make them fill guilty every single time they create something against your preferences. That 10-30-50 sketches with Gaz will eventually help them go back and write something for Ghost!

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 30/12/2023

The Paragoomba and the Wiggler

Season 7 Featured on: SGFR Presents: RIP²

Ripped by 601billionlazer Performed by vvslogs

Hey, look - its close to the new year, its past midnight as I'm writing this, and I'm feeling sentimental. I know I could be putting more delicacy into my choices for these last days of the year, but please allow me to be be a bit vulnerable today.

I started making these posts seven months ago. A month later, I made the full commitment into making it a full-on BLOG-blog. That is, a blog to truly let me spill my heart over, beyond just writing one or five sentences per rip, to ensure none of my feelings get left on the drawing board. It was never something I did to catch a wave of fame, or to show off on a resume: top to bottom, this blog began as a distraction from work, and has turned into a full-scale love letter for a project that has helped shape me into the person I am today. Now, with *this* project, I've found motivation and confidence: I've had the opportunity to reignite my passion for writing, satiating my lust for analysis and discussion, and most crucially providing a thank-you to a group of creators that have always felt woefully underappreciated.

What I never really expected, was to have those same wishes returned back to me.

From the ask box, to the messages, to the Rippers' Commentary reblogs, to the discussions held in the SiIvaCord and on Discord DMs themselves, its those heartfelt words, that gratitude and joy, that keeps me driven to continue this blog until I'm all wrung dry. I've long considered myself terrible at maintaining connections, yet with each message I receive it feels as if I've made a new friend, their words of support and love never leaving my mind no matter how much time passes. It still feels like I'm somewhat of a shut-in, yet I've had the ability to talk to so many more incredible people in the back half of this year alone than I have for so much of my life before.

So, with all that sappy shit said - The Paragoomba and the Wiggler goes out to one of those people. It was only a few weeks ago this month that I covered vvsvlogs' prior work on Wham! Into Dreams, and just how much her singing truly resonated with me. As soon as that post was done, I just...felt a need to know, if she'd done any more singing work for the channel, and she was kind enough to point out her contribution to RIP² that I'd somehow completely missed. A rearrangement of an immensely simple but effective Season 1 rip, The Paragooma and the Wiggler is still a mashup of a Super Mario Bros. 3 theme and an Owl City song, yet now with a far more lively, dynamic instrumental thanks to 601billionlazer's arranging, and with vocals wholly redone by vvsvlogs, as mentioned before - and, indeed, just like Wham! Into Dreams, I connected with the rip almost immediately after listening to it. There's of course also new life injected into the non-vocal half of the song through the rearrangement, new sound effects added to punctuate lyrics, an ebb and flow maintained with the instrumentation alternating between the original chiptune sound and a plucky piano. With all that said, its an incredible rip top to bottom, showing just how talented of a singer vvsvlogs is above all else - I daresay the new vocals full-on crush the originals for me.

Yet, there's a reason I wanted to put that big sentimental introduction to this post in particular. Because back when I first discovered Wham! Into Dreams years ago, I may still have been a devoted fan, but I was a wallflower althesame: barely in the SiIvaCord, barely in discussions with anyone other than the occasional YouTube comment. It's only through all of the aforementioned outcomes of running this blog, the people I've met and the messages I've received, that I finally feel truly at home with this community - that I found the courage to reach out, talk to, and send my sincerest thanks directly to these incredible creators, with at least SOMETHING to show for it. vvsvlogs is just one of a dozen or two people I've gotten to talk to through doing this blog, and it never ceases to warm my heart - both finally getting to talk to people who've indirectly pulled me out of dark times through simply doing what they love, and through knowing I've been able to make so many of them smile from the words I'm putting onto this darn page on a daily basis.

Happy new year, SiIvaGunner team. To all of you in the team reading silently without accounts to reply with, I hope you know just how much I love you.

<3

[alexanderlightweight]

Okay so I don't know if I'm doing this at the wrong day/time and I totally don't mind if you don't want this, but!! I've read a ton of like, oops we're married type stuff, or married cause we have to. But what about a slightly dark Magnus who deliberately sets out to marry the Lightwood heir to like, take advantage of spousal laws that would give him power in nephilim culture or something like that. Maybe he even plans to get him drunk and marry him, have Alec wake up married to a stranger only, he doesn't expect to fall head over fucking heels for this sweetly gorgeous boy.

I love your words, any words you write, and I look forward to everything you put out! Thank you so much. Your updates brighten my days :)

okay so i loved this prompt especially because i don't know if anyone knows about basically the trope of spouse-napping especially the ones where basically there are marriage ropes that you can bind an opponent with and by tradition, you're married/engaged whatever and it can be used by enemies.

so i hope you enjoy!

lumine

-

“Isn’t this a little crass, even for you?” Ragnor asks with a weary sigh even as he helps Magnus wrap up the last potion and secure it away.

Magnus merely hums and raises an amused brow, because Ragnor was the first to offer to help him and it’s the only time he’s spoken up against Magnus’ plan in any way. Which means that he’s not so much opposed, as he is exhausted and worried about the outcome.

“No.” Magnus says, honestly, because there is very little he wouldn’t do if he found the prize worth it. “And at the very least, we’ll make the clave look like a mockery. And well, I suppose Robert and Maryse’s disgust will be more than enough of a bonus.”

Magnus could go for the girl, she’s well known enough in downworlder circles, but it’s the heir that Magnus wants and it’s the heir he intends to have.

There is little known about Alexander Lightwood, but Magnus knows how important heirs are to nephilim and this one in particular is already rising high in the ranks, quickly and efficiently which is exactly what Magnus needs.

That’s the plan at least, until Magnus gathers up his potions and the gold ribbons Ragnor brought him specifically for this purpose.

Magnus gets to the best vantage point of the battle, a place he warded and scoped out before damaging the small rift enough that larger demons could come through. Now, Magnus watches his quarry enter with two teams of shadowhunters.

Magnus isn’t sure which one is the one he wants, so he waits, and he thinks that perhaps Alexander Lightwood didn’t come, until he realizes how many demons are dropping without contact and he follows the course to a tall roof. There are two shadowhunters there, one is keeping a perimeter and giving orders through her comms though Magnus can only see her lips move and not make it out. Alexander Lightwood is brutal even from a distance and his arrows never once miss. It’s a tantalizing display of skill and then Magnus sucks in a breath of delight as his shadowhunter dives off the roof, tackling a demon that was coming for him, and stabbing it as they fall.

It disintegrates into ichor and ash and Magnus’ shadowhunter lands in a crouch to distribute the shock and then he’s up and moving.  He’s in the middle of the melee now and while Magnus can’t hear him, it’s clear the rest of the hunters do. They ebb and flow around and to him, working like an extension of his commands rather than individuals. It’s as if they suddenly have a hive mind, focused on their leader and only their leader.

Magnus watches, charmed as Alexander gets his hunters into a strange array and then they all break apart into groups of two.

Alexander remains alone, his partner still giving them information from the roof, and he settles into the back, protecting his people and ensuring that he can get the demons no one else’s notices.

He’s in the perfect place to take and yet, Magnus finds his fingers petting the golden ribbons and he finds them suddenly coarse and garish.

If Magnus is going to wrap Alexander in ceremonial gold and claim him as a companion stolen in battle, the traditional battle marriages of shadowhunters, then Magnus is going to do it his way.

Alexander is clearly worth that much and while Magnus knows a bit of what he looks like, he’s suddenly aching to see him closer and touch his face and finally know what color his eyes are.

Magnus waits until the battle ends, relieved that while a few shadowhunters are injured, none are his boy.

It means that Magnus portals away easily and without any worry as he takes a deep breath and unlocks a room he hasn’t used in ages.

Thread craft is rare and while Magnus is talented at it, it’s a unique magic that is better left unmentioned. A secret because even if his magic is ever locked away, Magnus’ very clothes and the threads he wears will rise up to protect him.

It also gives him a very unique advantage and while clothing made by others won’t work as well, he has the time to create what he needs.

The silk ropes he weaves are made from the cocoons of abyssal moths that he and Ragnor spent a century slowly collecting.

Instead of using dyes, Magnus lets his magic create the color and he’s delighted by the rich golds and the vibrant shade of warlock blue that’s twined about the gold.

Magnus is going to catch his boy in nephilim tradition and colors, with warlock significance to let everyone know just who Alexander is going to belong to now.

For the first time, Magnus is suddenly amused and delighted by the fact that nephilim have such a militaristic society that they think nothing of blood and violence when it comes to intimacy.  Most of the greatest nephilim pairings come from one being caught by the other, Magnus sees no reason to change a tradition that works.

Especially when no nephilim has ever considered a downworlder might want to capture one of them or that they'd succeed.

So, despite the clave’s prejudice and bigotry, there is nothing preventing Magnus from slipping through this gaping loophole and claiming himself a nephilim mate. Especially when Magnus is aware that the only way to refuse the bonding once Magnus starts the ritual, is to kill each other or oneself.

Which is fine, Magnus isn’t going to let Alexander harm himself, or Magnus.

[blockgamepirate]

I have many thoughts on the anarchist/anti-authoritarian themes on QSMP but I just feel perpetually out of the loop because everything important happens while I'm asleep

(Well except the debates, I guess, but oh boy they were a struggle to watch)

My under-informed takes are basically

a) the pre-election arc era is a great demonstration of a lot of anarchist principles, because it's pretty much everybody working together to survive and thrive under hostile circumstances and with no real help from the authorities (and I really do appreciate Bad and Gegg for pointing out how this was evidence that they didn't need a president, even though I still think they both made a mistake participating in the elections)

b) the storylines from the election arc onwards are a great demonstration of how authorities can disrupt the solidarity between their subjects by giving some of them access to small amounts of power or privilege and by doing so reinforcing the normality of hierarchy and authority

It really is so unbelievably tragic to watch because it's so true to real life. Similar things have happened so many times over the course of history and these tactics are so effective at destroying resistance movements. (Literally the principle of Divide and Conquer goes back to at LEAST ancient Rome, which is where that phrase comes from. (... Actually I just checked and Wikipedia claims it actually comes from Philip II of Macedon, the father of Alexander the Great, not sure if that's true.))

c) I have no idea what to do about the situation right now. I would probably need to watch Forever to get a better idea, but also there's a language barrier there so I would definitely miss things orz

I straight up had a post that I started writing on like Tuesday or Wednesday about how they shouldn't overthrow Forever, not because it would lead to "anarchy" (that would be a good outcome in fact) but because it wouldn't; it would just be a distraction from the fight against the Federation, and a revolt against Forever would only lead to conflict between the islanders, which would only help the Federation maintain its power over them. He'd just be the scapegoat.

But if Forever is committed to his role as the president, if he's commissioning another prison?? (Is that a real thing or are people just saying shit?) idk, man... That sounds bad if it's true

I still don't think overthrowing him in particular would do anything, though. I feel like every route here just leads to a more divided and more easily manipulated community, unless they're able to convince everyone, ideally also Forever, to focus on resisting the Federation. But at this point I doubt that's even possible. The Federation would have to play its cards so unbelievably badly for that to happen.

Unless they can find some way to pressure the Federation; unless they can figure out what its goals and priorities are, and then disrupt those directly.

[auntarctica]

When it comes to your writing how do you see the differences between the reboot interpretation of Dante and Vergil versus their classic counterparts? What parts stick out to you as similar or as different?

So, I'm in the minority camp that thinks Ninja Theory did kind of an interesting thing when they opted to switch storylines and birth order (for whatever that's worth with identical twins) between Dante and Vergil in the reboot.

I know a lot of people hate the idea of Vergil being the "little brother" in the equation and thought it made no sense and was a meaningless change, and I get where they're coming from, because it probably was - what I mean is, it likely wasn't intentional on NT's part, for any other reason than an attempt to instead make Dante the "cool older brother" and to differentiate themselves in one more way from OG DMC.

But what's interesting about both the shift in birth order and the storyline swap is that rather than undermining their innate characters, it actually reinforced them, and proved that no matter the formative circumstances, Dante will act like Dante and Vergil will act like Vergil:

Dante, whether he's the one protected by Eva or disenfranchised from society and family, will become secretly wounded, insouciant, irreverent, sardonic, flippant and cynical. He will be in denial about the true danger posed by Mundus, and determined to avoid his father's legacy, but reluctantly protect humanity when called upon - though not for free, of course. The toilets need flushing.

Vergil, whether he comes from rubble or privilege, will always be ambitious, idealistic striving, driven, calculating but rash, with the overconfidence of youth and a reach exceeding his grasp. He will have an Icarusian fall, and ultimately a phoenix-like redemption. (We presume a DmC sequel would/have follow(ed) the same reconciliation trajectory, because what else would make sense/serve the story?)

It also rather neatly answers and dovetails with the retroactive rhetorical question classic Vergil asks himself at the top of the Qliphoth, whether things would have been different if he'd had Dante's life, and Dante had his.

And the answer we already have from reboot is, no, not really. The outcome could only have been different if the individuals involved were totally different people - but their core character traits, I think, stay true and remain intact in both versions.

Still, obviously there are variations in character within those greater macro aspects, things that make the expression of these personality traits different, which we can attribute to formative experience, and the swapped backstory.

For instance, Classic Dante hides his profound psychological damage by being a party guy and a rock n' roll rodeo clown whereas DmC Dante wears his inside out; we can see his sullen punk-rock defensiveness, his bitterness, and we do not doubt his damage for a minute. Being the disenfranchised one has left its mark on him, and he has no ability or willingness to mask his trauma. Both keep others at arms' length, but ironically, ReDante actually is more receptive to intimacy and connection, possibly because he doesn't have a false front, or a whole circus-like façade, just a default defensive stance he holds as a last resort, after being embattled his entire life. He has been given the classic Vergil backstory, and while he becomes similarly defensive and embittered, he reacts like Dante, not classic Vergil.

Neither Dante is ever canonically shown as having any particular interest in humans or humanity as a whole, so much as a keen interest in killing demons (which is why the ending fraternal conflict of reboot rings so false, non sequitur and hollow). Both shrug off human collateral damage, and if classic Dante is ever bothered by the mass casualties incurred in the raising of the Qliphoth, he never mentions it as he trips over their bodies to run to his brother. ¯_(ツ)_/¯

Of the two, I think Vergil is the more different, with more personality contrast between interpretations - though his core traits remain: curiosity, intrepidity, enthusiasm, perfectionism, impulsivity, absolutism. With the strife removed from his life, Vergil is able to be emotionally open, to express his love for his brother, and his ambition comes from a proactive place instead of a reactive one.

However, like Dante, all his youthful flaws remain intact. He will always be the one who falls - and Dante will always be the one who fails to act at the crucial moment. The tragedy is thus complete.

The greatest difference, I think, is that classic Vergil has even less use for humans than Dante, whereas ReVergil is arguably the only one who actually has any appreciation for humanity as a class (even if he regards them as lesser beings) - which actually puts him more in line with classic Sparda, ironically, than anyone else. Reboot Sparda is never shown as having any particular interest in humans or their fate, and he and Eva are essentially depicted as just hiding out in the human world like it's witness protection.

That said, I'm sure I'm missing something, so I'm actually interested in hearing other people's opinions on this.

[brain-amoeba]

still battling writers block but wanna stay active so here is all my pea brain can muster at the moment

Even More Random HCs: Spy x Reader

-Let me start this with some of my general Spy HCs-- I don't think he's necessarily as cold and distant as Sniper but I also disagree with the notion of him being very lovey dovey and affectionate. Spy is a gentleman, romantic and full of charm, but still a mysterious gentleman nonetheless (I mean, he's always seen wearing a balaclava ffs), so there is a definite wall between him and those around him. Basically, he's always in control of all his relationships--through his wit and understanding of the human psyche, he can always make his own outcomes, and decides when and how to act to get his desired result every time.

-That's not to say it isn't possible to break that wall down tho, which is what I want to explore in my writing :3 and just another random one is I know Spy doesn't have a canon name and i dunno if theres like a universally agreed upon fanon name for him but I always pictured him as a Maximilien.

-Spy is very picky when it comes to those who pique his attention--he may be a romantic, but he's not just some sleazebag who flirts with anything that has a pulse. He likes to think of it as some kind of game, or scheme. A variety of worthy contenders, but only 1 he ends up meaningfully pursuing (enter reader stage left!!!)

-Spy, a master manipulator and well-versed in the art of conniving, knows better than to go all-in once he has his heart set on you. What kind of mercenary would he be if he didn't have some kind of master plan? There are still 8 other men he has to compete for your affections with, you know.

-He strings you along, always giving just the right amount of flirtation or romance to keep your dopamine up while still leaving you begging for more. His psychological approach to winning you over is to ensure that once you fall, you can't won't want to get back up :)))

-And if he finds that perhaps you've taken to one of his colleagues a little more than him? Ohohoho, a true gentleman fights for his lady! But in this particular case, Spy is no stranger to fighting dirty--he takes it upon himself to disguise as whichever merc you're crushing on and will gaslight you and manipulate your feelings against (insert merc here). He knows better than to outright crush you and give you a cold rejection while in disguise, though he dreams of it; the moment you'd come crying to him about your broken heart, and how terribly sorry you were for not coming to your senses and being with Spy instead--it's almost enough to get him hard

-He doesn't mean to manipulate you so harshly, honest! He just wants what's best for him you. He will treat you right. He will make sure all your needs are taken care of, and take you to the highest heights of carnal pleasure you've never known before--even if you don't, he knows that you see it that way too.

By any means necessary.

(also just wanna say i have seen all the asks in my inbox and i promise I am working on all of them! writers block is really just kicking my ass when it comes to writing actual fics, which is what i'm doing for quite a few of them, but I promise i'll get them churned out!)

[ljandersen]

whats ur status on sideways 👀? No joke i think abt it daily.

Thank you for reaching out, Anon! It means a lot to me, knowing that a story I wrote is thought about every day. I think about it every day, too, being the author! It's still the story I'm proudest to have written.

As for the status on Sideways, it currently exists as a hand-written, rough first draft stored in a fire-proof safe. It needs massive changes -- complete scene rewrites and a ton of new scenes (mostly for the paragon timeline). It's currently on my back burner while I focus on an original project.

All the adjustments I made editing the 750k words in Part 1-4 has culminated in a major undertaking editing Part 5.

For instance, the reason Shepard joins the Alliance on Rannoch is different after my changes in Part 4. Before, I didn't have a very good reason for her being there and, because of that peripheral role, she wasn't directly involved in a lot of the things happening. Now she's acting Counselor. She's front and center.

It's a good change, the right change, which is why I did it. However, now a lot of the plot-centric happenings, which were only heard about or referenced through another character, need full scenes with Shepard being impactful and altering the outcomes (much better than being a removed observer).

This will require several new scenes and throwing out old ones that are now unnecessary. Then I need to relocate any extra bits of vital information not in the new scene, to other places in the story.

In addition to whole new scenes, I need to majorily revise whole scenes. There's a party scene on Rannoch, which now the goal behind it and what Shepard is doing during it, has changed. That series of scenes need rewritten.

That example of Shep's purpose on Rannoch changing scenes downstream is just one -- and a mostly spoiler free one -- of the dozens of changes I need to accomodate.

Also, the paragon timeline in particular requires a lot of new writing, maybe 50 k words of new scenes (so, the equivalent of a full novel).

Toward the end of writing the first draft of Sideways, I was starting to get worn down. Writing four storylines sometimes made it feel like I was spending weeks going nowhere, because I wasn't moving forward in the main Renegade timeline. Because of that frustration and wanting to reach the end, I chose to focus less on the paragon timeline, knowing I would need to add more to it during the editing. I left myself with some major work to do on that storyline to do it justice.

All of those reasons aside, the main reason Sideways Part 5 isn't ready is because I shifted focus for the time being. I'm serializing an original sci fi series and trying to establish myself an author. I intended to do this after I finished posting Sideways, but with the emergence of AI, I don't think the opportunity will be there for me if I wait.

Visibility for writing is going to become impossible and slow human writers, like me, will be washed away under the tide of AI mega production. There's an influential author in the indie world, for example, who has stated his intention to produce 10k novels a year, on par with the big publishing houses. That's one person, who with a handful of contractors previously put out a few dozen books a year, if that many, who now intends to do 10k a year!

My opportunity to find readers is now, while AI is still clunky and not universal, before people selling a back catalog of 100k books and with the ad spending to match drive human writers out of the market.

Because of this new priority, I've had to funnel my creativity and focus into my original writing. I'm not someone who can do two things at once. I'm all in on one project at a time. That's probably apparent from my fanfic, where I've only posted one WIP at a time, start to finish before the next. I can't divide my passion on concurrent WIP.

That doesn't mean I don't think about Sideways though -- I do, daily! -- and I intend to finish it. For now, though, unfortunately, Sideways is a draft in some notebooks in a safe. It's not a simple undertaking to edit it, and I need to focus on a personal goal.

Your interest in Sideways is something I treasure, though, and appreciate beyond words. I'm so glad my story isn't forgotten. I love knowing it's still on readers' minds. It makes me feel like, what had so much meaning to me as its writer, truly must carry that meaning through to the reader, too, which is the greatest joy in sharing a story.

Thank you for taking time to check in on Sideways and for letting me know how much it still means to you.

Also, here is a picture of my new puppy as a tiny consolation for not having Sideways ready: